


Two Sides Of A Coin

by NealsNeen



Category: White Collar, White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bleeding Out, Fainting, Heist, Hurt Neal Caffrey, Hurt/Comfort, Neal is being blackmailed, Poor Neal, Whump, and I love it, collapse, injured, keller is a villain, museum, stabbed, wow my tags are harsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NealsNeen/pseuds/NealsNeen
Summary: This fills my Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "Bleeding Out".Neal is being blackmailed by Keller into stealing something for him.How will Peter find out? Will Neal be okay?Hope, you enjoy and please comment. :)I am now on Instagram: whitecollarfiction - follow me :)
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke/Neal Caffrey
Comments: 25
Kudos: 61
Collections: Bad Things Happen





	1. Blackmail

Keller was staring him straight in the face with a maniac expression resting around his curled lips. He almost looked feral and utterly determined to blackmail Neal.

„Come on, Neal. You know how this little game works. You get me the artifacts and I won't hurt Elizabeth.“

Neal rolled his eyes and strode around the place to buy time. Their meeting-point was a constructions site in the middle of the city. Night had fallen so no worker was around anymore.

„Fresh out of prison, Keller, and already at it again. You're like an addict.“

„Oh come on, now. We are who we are and we can't change that. Once a criminal, always a criminal, Neal.“

Neal sighed and ran his fingers through his brown curls. „I have changed. I have a life here. With good people. The strings of my past keep pulling me back. Like you are right now. And god knows I could do without that.“

„Look, Caffrey. The job is easy. It's a very small museum with a special roman artifacts exhibition this weekend. The security systems are a joke; so all you have to do is sneak in and get me the roman coin, which is on display in the middle of the room.“  
„If it's so easy to get in, why don't you go yourself?“ Neal was utterly annoyed at this point. It was enough that he was on one leash, but now Keller pulling on the other side as well just felt like he was being choked.

„Because, Neal. Where would be the fun in that? It's so easy to blackmail you and do the dirty work for me, now that you have friends and people you care about. Your fault, really.“

Neal was pacing again and weighing his options. There weren't any, really. He just needed to talk to Peter. He knew it would be best to tell him so they could figure out a way to bring Keller down.

He looked up at his nemesis, who was standing there with an arrogant smirk across his face. „What?“ Neal asked annoyed.

„Well, it's not like there is much to think about, Caffrey. I have an accomplice placed outside Elisabeth's workplace right now. She is working late and if she leaves the place alone, he is probably going to show her all the sharp and pointy objects he is carrying.“

Neal drew in a sharp breath. „You want me to steal the coin NOW?“

„Why yes, clever boy. Let's go.“

Neal tried to look as calm as he could as they made their way off the construction site and into a cab waiting for them by the exit.

On the inside, Neal panicked. What if Peter checked his tracking anklet and saw him in a museum? What if he thought Neal really intended to steal? What if El got hurt? All of this was going to be his fault. One way or another.

In the cab, Keller had stashed a bag. „Here, clothes for you. Put them on.“

Neal still couldn't believe what he'd gotten himself into. He undressed his suit-jacket, shirt and tie and put on a black t-shirt and a black jeans-jacket. He also found a set of lock-picks and smaller tools in the bag, which he tucked into his jacket.

The cab came to a stop behind the museum, near the staff-entrance. „We're here. I won't be able to stay for your little stunt, but you can hand me the coin at our next meeting. I will let you know when and where.“

„Keller, I don't think I can do this. Please. Find someone else to be your pet. Leave me and the Burkes out of this.“

„Oh well, Caffrey. Would you really prefer, if Elisabeth would have to feel something like this?“

Neal felt a forceful nudge in his side and looked down.

Keller's hand was holding the hilt of a knife, whose blade had disappeared into Neal's side.

The young man didn't register the pain at first. He merely made a small, surprised sound in the back of his throat. But then Keller withdrew the knife slowly and a wave of dizziness hit Neal from the pain now shooting through him. He looked wide-eyed at Keller and back down at the hole in his side and the knife now slick with blood, before he put a shaking hand over the wound.

Before he could utter a word, which seemed to be stuck in his throat together with his breath, Keller reached over him and swung the door at his side open and said „Good luck, Caffrey.“ He pushed Neal out of the cab forcefully, who landed in a heap and with a grunt on the pavement, slammed the door shut and drove off.

Neal just lay there for a moment, drawing in a ragged breath and coughed a couple of times, while he pushed himself up on all fours. Blood already dripping onto the sidewalk.

He looked up at the museum's staff entrance and hoped with all that he got, that Elizabeth was really safe.


	2. Inside

Neal had pushed himself up and had staggered towards the staff-entrance. To pick the locks and turn off the alarm had indeed not been that hard. There were no cameras in the dimly lit hallway, which he was now standing in, but he assumed there would be at least one in the exhibition-room.

If Keller would tell him the time and place they would meet next, he could very well steal the coin on Sunday, which was tomorrow, and get some help from Peter in the meantime. If he was tailed by Keller tonight though, he really feared for Elizabeth's safety. Plus, he was here now and everything was starting to get a little fuzzy around the edges so he better got a move on.

The dizziness had not subsided, if anything it had gotten worse.

He lifted the arm he had protectively wrapped around his midsection to inspect the stab-wound and was not surprised to find it still bleeding.  _Shit._

His ragged breathing made him feel even more light-headed, so he leaned against the wall for support for a second. He really needed to focus. There was a sign saying that the roman exhibition was down the hall and to the right and now that he had tried to calm his breathing, he could hear soft snoring in the distance.  _Must be the night-guard._

Neal swore on the inside. What a mess he’d gotten into. He loved the Burkes and June and the friends he’d made at the FBI. He’d rather go through hell for them than to see them harmed. And he would not ever change this life again, even if that meant he’d now and then find himself in situations like these. If he ever got out of this one alive _. God, it hurt._

He braced himself for the next steps and tried to bee-line his way down the hall as quietly as he could, eliciting a pained whimper every so often that he couldn’t suppress. His arm was wrapped around him again, he used the other one on the wall for support, his head was slightly bowed and his curls fell over his brows. At this point he looked more drunk than hurt.

After the next step, his hand reached into nothingness. He hadn’t paid attention and missed that he had reached the opening to the hall of the exhibition to his right and his movements were too sluggish to really react to the sudden loss of support, so he fell sideways into the room and landed on the linoleum floor with a dull thud on his injured side.

His arm fell away from his midsection and he just lay there for what felt like an eternity, breathing through the pain. His curls were sprawled around him and a small puddle of blood was slowly forming underneath his prone form. Neal’s eyes were unfocused and he could just make out his extended arm and his upturned palm in front of him as his eyes slowly closed and he gave into the sweet beckoning of utter darkness and the land were no pain existed.

His features slackened and his lips lost all tension and parted as he lost consciousness.

Only the whirring of the air-con and the persistent snoring of the night-guard in the distance could be heard.


	3. All Is Well

Peter was comfortably seated on his couch at home, his feet propped up and a game was playing on TV. He felt happy and content. For a long time now, everything had been good.

Elizabeth was enjoying her new event project and was working late today, while he had been home before her. When had that every happened, he mused.

He had brought some take-away with him and bought her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Now he was just waiting for her arrival so they could have dinner and a lovely, snuggly evening.

Even working with Neal had been all fun and banter the past weeks.

His young friend had not left him with any suspicion that he might be up to something. And he had not seen Mozzie around for a while. And he surely didn’t want to know, where the short guy was and what he was doing. As long as Neal was doing good and stayed in his eyesight, all was well.

He had dropped him off at Junes earlier and he had seemed chipper but also ready to have some well deserved time to rest.

Peter checked his watch. Eight O’clock. He patted Satchmo on the head, who was sitting by the couch and let his eyes wander around the room until he spotted his laptop. He could just take one quick peek and check Neal’s anklet…

He brought the laptop over and placed it on the coffee table. Neal’s tracking anklet came up immediately and he had to do a double take to realize that the address where the dot was, was not June’s. It was a museum.

Peter groaned agonizingly and buried his face in his hands. This can’t be happening. _What on earth are you up to, Neal?_

He quickly put on his shoes and suit-jacket, holstered his gun and tried to call El on the way out.

She wasn’t picking up…


	4. Until It Is Not

“Danny? Keller here. Do you have your eyes on Mrs Burke?”

“Yes, sir. Like you asked to. She is here in the gallery and is packing up her stuff, I think she’ll leave soon. What do you want me to do?”

“You’ll get an extra raise once I have the coin. But something tells me it might be best to bring her to the museum as leverage. Who knows what Caffrey will be up to. Go trade her directly for the coin.”

“You got it, Boss.”

The goon hung up and watched from his position near the entrance, how she was now stepping outside and locking the door behind her. Before she could turn to walk to her car, he approached her.

“Evening, Mrs Burke.”

Elizabeth jumped a little and turned around to see a stranger standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. But you’ll have to come with me.”

“What do you want from me? You know my husband is with the FBI!” El could feel her heart rate speeding up. She fumbled for her phone in her handbag, but the man took two steps and yanked it from her. He put it in his own pocket and produced a small gun from the other. El raised her hands slowly in defense. “What is this about?” She asked.

“Oh, just a little trade with one Neal Caffrey. Let’s go meet him.”

“Neal? Is he alright, what is going to happen?”

“Just shut up and get in the car.” He pointed to a car near them.

With a heavy sigh, El moved towards it and hoped and prayed that this night would end well.  _Peter, please …_

She could hear her phone buzzing in her kidnapper’s pocket…


	5. Surveillance

“Jones, it’s Peter. Neal has broken into The Museum Of Early History. I’m on my way there now, can you call the staff and security guard to warn them and send back-up?”

“Neal has what? I’m working late so I’m still in the office. Hold on.”

Peter sat in his parked car and after a couple of minutes, Jones was not able to get anyone to pick up the phone at the museum, but he had reached the general manager who was out of town but gave Jones the passcode to an online live feed of the surveillance camera in the main hall. Peter entered the feed on his phone, which was loading and started the car. He was about to start driving when the feed came up.

What he saw made his stomach churn.

The camera was placed in an upper corner and across from the doorway into it. Between what must’ve been the hallway and the doorway lay a dark-clad figure. _Neal._ _What the…?_

After a few seconds, he could see that Neal was stirring and attempted to get up. He seemed disoriented and unfocused. _Was he drunk?_

Neal made it to his feet and swayed in place; he extended an arm and leaned against the nearest pedestal to get his bearings. When he slowly raised his head, Peter could not make out his features clearly due to the lack of light. However, he could see that he was now struggling to take the next step, shuffling and staggering towards one particular exhibit.

“Don’t do it, Neal”, Peter swore under his breath.

He put the gear in and started driving. It was hard to concentrate on the road ahead and what he did was not exactly safe or legal, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that Neal had pocketed a small object.

He needed to go faster in order to catch his friend red-handed. If he got there before back-up arrived, he might be able to turn this around. Depending on what Neal would have to say for himself.

He came to a stop in front of the main entrance and looked at his phone again. It seemed that Neal was in no hurry to get out. _Odd._

Apparently, he had made his way over to a bench by the windows and laid down. The furniture was not big enough for his frame, so he looked like the bloody Pieta with his head, one arm (the other one was lying limply across his stomach) and his legs hanging off the bench. _What has gotten into him?_

Peter got out and pocketed his phone for the moment. He tried the front door and found it locked of course. He banged on it and shouted “Hello? Can anybody hear me?”

He peeked inside and saw a reception, where someone was lying with their feet propped up. The man didn’t stir. _Great, was the security guard drunk, too?_ (Little hint: he was.)

“Peter!”

Peter almost jumped as Jones came jogging towards him.

“Jones. He’s in there, the security guard can’t hear me and the door is locked.”

“I could try the back-entrance. Neal must’ve sneaked in there. Show me the feed.”

Peter got his phone out and handed it to Jones.

“What the? Is he alright? He is going painfully slow, but I think he is coming our way.”

Jones tilted the phone so Peter could see. Neal had gotten up again and just disappeared from the camera view and into the hallway. Which meant they would be able to see him, if they looked through the glass doors of the main entrance.

Peter perked up and tried to make out any movements inside.

“Is that blood?”

“What?”

Jones pointed on the older agent’s phone. “On the floor.”

“I was wondering what those odd patterns were, but really didn’t think of …. “

And he still couldn’t. Could Neal be hurt? Or was he pulling a very masterful con?

“I will go and check the back entrance anyway; maybe I can find him inside.” Jones said as he rounded the corner of the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more whump coming up, I promise ^^


	6. Inside Again

_Just need to rest. Just for a minute._

_I came this far, I’ll make it home and patch myself up,_ Neal lied to himself. 

He knew he had lost a lot of blood, which was practically covering most of the hallway and the main room. The relentless pain in his side didn’t help either. How he had not been discovered yet was beyond him. He knew that his DNA was all over the place and that he would probably go to jail for this. Maybe this was all in Keller’s plan.

He was so dizzy, he was wondering why he had woken up again after his fall and why he was still conscious at this point.

Deep down, he knew. The thought of El’s safety kept him going. And the urgent need to explain everything to Peter.

The bench he was on was hard and made everything hurt worse. The pressure he tried to keep on the wound had weakened with every beat of his heart. He knew he was running on empty. But he needed to get out. He needed to let Keller know he had the coin and to leave El alone.

He was sprawled out like a rag-doll, but he really needed to get moving.

He sat up with a painful groan and pushed himself up by the backrest, instantly falling against the nearest wall, utterly grateful it had seemed to come out of nowhere.

He shifted along the wall and rounded the entrance into the hallway, not realizing that he was leaving a dark red smear on the white paint.

The damn guard was still snoring and he hoped he could get passed him once he reached the reception area, which was straight ahead, he could see the glass doors of the main entrance and… he stopped short.  _Peter._

His handler was standing outside with Jones, both looking at a cell phone.

“P’tr.” Neal whispered and blinked sluggishly.

Neal staggered forward and passed the reception, where he could smell heavy liquor in the air.

With one side-glance he saw that the security guard was still sleeping soundly. Utterly drunk. He felt sorry for the guy as he was surely to lose his job.

Just as he saw that Jones was parting Peter’s side in a hurry, he reached the glass door and fell against it, startling Peter outside. His friend’s expression was one of surprise, then anger.

The young man fumbled with the lock-picks in his pocket and started to work on the doors.


	7. Showdown Part I

Just as Jones was out of sight, Peter heard a thud, which made him jump.

None other than Neal was leaning against one of the glass doors on the inside. He looked ashen and his eyes underneath his disheveled locks were even larger than usual.

His expression seemed pleading and full of concern. But Peter could not afford to go soft on him now. He wanted to protect Neal, but he also wanted what was best for him. Which in the entirety of Neal's well-being was ultimately to just stay out of trouble. And he clearly hadn't managed to do that tonight.

 _How am I gonna get him out of this mess?_ The agent was fuming, but tried to stay calm on the outside, patiently waiting for his master-thief to pick the locks of the entrance.

Neal had bowed his head, concentrating on working with the picks.

_Why wasn't he running away but rather willingly turning himself over to me?_

At least, that's what it looked like to Peter and he could not fathom what this was all about.

Finally, he heard an audible click and Neal pushed the door open, eliciting a deep sigh, as if he just resurfaced from the depth of a very bad dream.

“Pet'r. 'M so glad you're here.” Was Neal slurring his words? He wasn't exactly standing up straight either.

He was hunched over slightly, both arms crossed in front of his chest, a defeated look on his face, a thin line of sweat near his hairline and a sluggish way of speaking and blinking.

“Oh Neal, don't get me started. What did you steal this time? Hand it over!” Peter bellowed.

Neal seemed to list to one side under the weight of his friend's words.

“Can't. It's... you're not gonna like this. I swear I was going to tell you, but then there was Keller and … he threatened... and the knife.” The young man swallowed visibly, lifting his eyes off the ground to seek out Peter's gaze and see, if he understood.

“What are you talking about? You're not making any sense. Give me the item you stole. And what does Keller have to do with it?” He demanded.

“Please, Pet'r. I jus' wanna go home. Let's... let's talk there. I'll exp'ln ev'rything.”

The agent was barely able to hold it together. Then, two things happened at once.

Jones came out of the main entrance behind Peter, with an expression of shock written all over his face, not looking at Peter at all, but totally focused on Neal as he approached the younger man with long strides from behind but then stopped short as...

...two figures emerged from between parked cars nearby. They approached the museum and Peter as well as Jones could see that it was Elisabeth, held tightly in the grip of a stranger, who was pointing a gun at her ribs.

All three men gasped in surprise.

“Stop! All of you.” The criminal demanded. They all froze in place.

“Please, let her go. This is my wife. Are you okay, hun?”

“Yeah, yeah, Peter. It's okay.” Elisabeth stuttered.

“What do you want?” Peter tried to calculate how much time he would have to draw his gun, before the stranger could shoot El. He bet that Jones was contemplating the same, but currently they were at an impasse.

The man took a few steps away from El, who had her hands raised, still pointing the gun at her but now dialing a number on his cellphone, which he then, with an extended arm, carefully handed over to Peter.

The tension was almost unbearable for him. His best friend, his wife and his agent all at peril and he didn't know what to do.

Peter took the phone and put it on speaker.

“Agent Burke. I see you like my surprise. Don't worry, your wife will be released to you once I have what I want.”

“Keller.” Peter snarled. “What _**do**_ you want?”

“Well, something that your ever so loyal pet-con stole for me. It's a coin. Have him hand it to you and you can exchange it for your wife. I should've known that you would end up here tonight and I have to say, this is so much more fun. ”

Peter had his eyes fixed on El the entire time. She seemed pale but unharmed. He was going to get her out of this.

And Neal... god. He should have known. His friend _**had**_ changed. He knew that, but it was still hard to trust him sometimes. He felt awful now.

He knew the young man had done what he would have done for El. And he felt proud to have a friend like him. Although he wanted to be the one doing the defending and protecting. He was the agent. He was in charge, damn it.

Peter turned on his axis to the left towards the entrance. Neal was standing near him and Jones behind the con.

He could see that Jones was trying to indicate something with his raised hands to Peter, pointing at Neal and gesturing, but he couldn't figure out what it meant. Puzzled, he said to Neal:

“Hand me the coin. It's okay. You did good. We'll all be okay.”

Neal huffed in a relieved way. He was trying to put his weight from one foot on the other, swaying in place, his lips forming a thin line, his eyes a little unfocused as he looked at Peter.

_ Oh god. He's in pain. He's hurt. How did I not register this immediately? All that blood in the video... was Neal's? _

Panic was creeping up his throat. And Neal was awfully silent.

Peter could see that it took all of Neal's will to remain standing. He was slowly and sluggishly reaching into his pant-pocket, his other arm wrapped around his middle. Peter's gaze followed his movements down to his pocket... suddenly realizing that the whole of Neal's right side was wet and glistening, from his waist down to his ankle. _Dear god!_

“P'tr. 'M sorry.” The injured man whispered.

“God, what did Keller do to you?” Peter gasped.

Neal didn't answer. He withdrew his fist from his pocket, extended his arm towards Peter, turned his hand upwards and opened his palm to reveal to Peter what was inside.

Peter's eyes grew wide and his breathing picked up, completely panicked now. _“Please, please, please, oh god”_ , he whispered.

Neal's hand was covered in blood and in a pool of red inside his palm lay a crimson-smeared coin.


	8. Showdown Part II

Cautiously, Peter reached for the coin in Neal's palm, but his eyes never averted the deep blue gaze of his injured friend. Neal was breathing heavily and listing to one side, looking at Peter with so much affection and trust that it broke Peter's heart. Again and again he accused Neal of misusing his faith in him only to be proven otherwise. The young con is the best person he knows. Maybe better than all of them combined.

The agent just wants to get this over with and make sure that his wife is safe and his friend will get medical attention.

He picked up the coin and was about to turn towards the kidnapper, when Neal elicited a small sigh of relief. “P'tr. Make it right.” He said.

And with that, his arm fell away from his side, his legs folded in, his eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness and Peter had just a second to react, he balled the coin in his fist and wrapped his arms around his friend, who was now draped in his embrace like rag-doll.

“Neal!” Neal's head was bent all the way backwards and his lips parted, his arms hanging by his side. “Damn it, he needs help!” Peter yelled towards the kidnapper, who still had his gun trained on Elizabeth. El was covering her mouth in shock with both hands, stifling a cry.

Jones stood stock-still, not daring to move at all, too scared the situation would escalate further if he made a wrong move.

Peter crouched down and carefully laid Neal out on the pavement. He just had time to notice that his friend's chest was still rising and falling when the criminal bellowed: “The coin! Hand it over!”

Slowly, Peter got up and took tentative steps towards the kidnapper. When he was close enough, he extended his arm and held out the blood covered coin.

The criminal snatched it from Peter's grip and retreated down the sidewalk first slowly, then he turned and started running.

El let out a loud sob and sagged into her husband's embrace. “Neal...” she whispered.

In the distance, a booming “FBI!” could be heard. The backup Jones had called before driving to the museum himself had arrived and caught the kidnapper down the road.

“Thank god. Keller might get away with this now, but his little sidekick won't.” Peter sighed and turned towards Jones, who was kneeling beside Neal, applying pressure to the wound.

“Damn it, kid.” Peter said, crouching down beside his unconscious friend. It was scary to see him so still, unmoving, features completely slack.

“Neal, come on.” Peter reached for the young man's face, rolling his head towards him, Neal's dark, soft curls flopping with the movement, but he doesn't make a sound. “Please, wake up. You'll be alright. El is safe now. It's over. Come back to us.” But Neal's features remained slack, his lashes dark against his pale skin, his parted lips revealing his glinting white teeth in the semi-dark of the street lamps.

“Peter, he's lost a lot of blood. I saw the inside of the museum and … and... the walls, the floor...” Jones had to stop himself from painting the gruesome picture he had seen inside the building. Peter closed his eyes in defeat and felt a light touch on his shoulder, knowing El was standing behind him without looking.

They sat like that for a while. In utter silence. All eyes trained on their fallen friend. All of them saying silent prayers, hoping it would not be too late to safe the one person who made all of their lives more fun, more interesting, more social, more whimsical, more extraordinary, warmer, faster, better.

Neal always can only be thought of in superlatives.


	9. Fin

None of them dared to speak, all of their eyes were trained on Neal. The fear that their friend would stop breathing at any minute was hanging heavily between them and the sounds of the city being alive at night surrounded them like a cocoon.

“Neal, please. Be strong. You did so well, you're my partner now. I'm going to kill Keller, he's going to pay...” Peter whispered more to himself than the con in front of him. He was on his knees, pressing his suit jacket to the wound in Neal's side. El had crouched down next to Neal's head, one hand lying lightly on his hairline, absentmindedly stroking his curls whilst looking into his slack face.

“Peter, he looks so young! Are you sure he was in his early 20s when you first arrested him? He's just a kid. Look!” El's eyes were tearing up. Peter knew that she was fond of Neal and had fallen for his charms. In a maternal way. Which now clearly surfaced.

“Honey, he's going to be okay. I promise. Jones, where's that ambulance?”

“Agents just radioed that it's almost here. Was stopped at the arrest-site down the road, but they are letting it through.” Jones was standing near the curb, looking out for the ambulance.

“Pt'r.” A faint voice breathed.

Peter's head whipped around. Neal had regained consciousness. But just barely.

It was beyond him, but there was a faint smile on the young man's face. Peter smiled back. “Hey, buddy. Help is almost here.”

“'s okay. 'M fine. Got you here.” He blinked almost happily up at Peter and El, the blue of his eyes so vibrant in the streetlight, it gave the two of them hope he would pull through.

“'M glad you're safe, El. 's all 'm fault.”

“No, Neal it's okay. You saved me. Neal... look at me. Neal!”

But Neal's eyes closed slowly on their own accord and his head rolled heavily towards El, who took his face in both her hands, shaking him. “Neal!”

“Hun, stop. It's okay. He'll be okay.”

The sound of sirens was coming closer and an ambulance pulled up the side of the street, several medics running towards them.

Peter felt like he was wading through a heavy mist. He pulled El towards him, into a tight embrace while they watched their friend being tended to.

“Pulse stable, stats look fine. Lost a lot of blood though. Puncture wound to the side. Transfusion to be administered on the way to the hospital. Let's go.”

“You're friend was lucky. He should be fine.”

Peter, El and Jones all let out a breath they did not knew they were holding. Utterly relieved.


End file.
